


Ènouement

by anthez



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Allura/Romelle, Eventual Hunk/Shay, Fix-It, Keith and Lance are Friends Before Voltron, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, lance is treating with fucking respect for once
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthez/pseuds/anthez
Summary: énouement: the bitter-sweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is kind of a fix-it fic, but mostly an au  
> canon content i changed:
> 
> \- shiro and adam are married pre-kerberos, they still have an argument but they don't break up.
> 
> \- keith has white hair + fangs
> 
> \- lance has his original character design (turtleneck and fingerless gloves)
> 
> *more to be added

_A small droplet of blood seeps out from within his clenched fists; he was clenching his hands so hard that his sharp fingernails cut through the soft skin of his hands, leaving crescent shaped cuts in the center of his palms. It falls to the floor, along with the tears that are cascading down his face. He tries to blink away the tears, but to no avail. “Why do you have to go? Why can’t you stay?” His voice is small and wavering. The mere sound of it sends a pang of pain coursing through Krolia, cracking her heart in two. She kneels down in front of her son, reaching up to wipe at his damp eyes._

_“I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry. But I can’t stay with you. It will put you and your father in danger.” She whispers, brushing Keith’s long white bangs off his forehead. “I promise I will come back.” Her voice cracks on the last syllable._

_“When?” Keith asks, looking up at her. His face is blotchy and red, snot and tears mixing together as he begins to sob. She pulled him close to her, letting him wrap his small arms around her neck as she threads her hands through his hair. He trembles against her, muffling his whimpers into her shoulder._

_“I don’t know.”_

_Krolia goes to pull away, but Keith clings to her, his tiny fingers digging into the skin of her neck. Akira steps forward to grab him, picking him up and holding Keith to his chest. “NO! Mama please! Don’t go!” Keith screams frantically, squirming and thrashing as he tries to escape his father’s grip._  

_Krolia stands there for a moment. She has been beaten, stabbed, shot, burned; she has faced down death more times than she can remember. None of it compares to the agony she is in right now. Tears silently stream down her face. “I love you, Keith.” She murmurs, before forcing herself to turn on her heel and leave. If she stays a second longer, she knows she would never be able to walk out that door. Keith watches helplessly as she closes the door and vanishes. He struggles against Akira’s hold, kicking his legs out and scratching at his father’s arms. Akira simply holds him tighter until Keith seems to lose steam and give up. He twists around in his father’s arms, burying his face in Akira’s shirt and bawls._

_“Papa,” Keith blubbers, inconsolable. Akira rubs gentle circles into his back, ignoring the damp spot quickly forming on his shirt._

_“I know bud. I know. I miss her too.”_

Keith lurches up with a start, the collar of his sleep shirt soaked through with sweat. The window next to his bed is open a crack, letting in a small bit of fresh air. He forces it further open, the distant chirps of crickets drifting in along with a gentle breeze that cools his sweat damp face. He’d already had that same dream twice this past week. But it still stings every time he relived it; the ache in his chest when he sees his mom’s face, the feeling of being powerless as his dad holds him back. He wants to be mad at his mom. He has every right to be. She _abandoned_ him. No matter how hard he tries, though, he can't find it within himself to hate her.

“Keith?”

He whips his head around to look at the door, sighing in relief when he sees it's only Shiro poking his head in. “You okay bud?” Shiro asks softly, walking over to sit on the edge of Keith’s bed. Keith nods wordlessly in response. “Alright. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to yell, ok?” Keith whispers out a small 'ok', still staring blankly at the comforter. Shiro pats him on the shoulder gently before getting up and exiting out into the dark hallway. The door clicks shut behind him, followed by the soft footfalls of Shiro returning to his bedroom down the hall. 

Keith knows Shiro is out of his depth. He could tell Shiro didn’t really know what he was doing, but he was trying his best, and that was all that really mattered. It was comforting to know there was someone that still cared about him. In all honesty, Keith expected Shiro to give up on him after Keith stole his car; he was positive Shiro was going to send him back to the foster care system when he got into a fight with another cadet. Yet Shiro seemed to prove him wrong time and time again.

 

☆ ★ ☆

 

Shiro tried his best to be quiet, but Adam was already awake and sitting up against the headboard when he returned. Adam is groping blindly at the night stand for his glasses when Shiro slides under the covers next to him. “Is everything okay?” Adam’s voice is low and gravelly with sleep, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“Yeah, Keith just had a nightmare.” Shiro says, tugging the comforter up over himself. Adam hums quietly, running his fingers through Shiro’s hair. His short fingernails gently scrape against Shiro’s scalp, sending a small shiver down Shiro’s spine. 

“You’re a good brother, Takashi.” Adam says quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to Shiro’s forehead. Shiro huffs out small laugh through his nose, smiling up at his husband. 

“You know we’re not actually related, right?”

Adam shrugs one shoulder as he reaches over to flick off the lamp. “You might as well be.” The room goes dark, only a small sliver of moonlight peeking through the slats of the blinds. Adam scooches down and settles next to Shiro, slinging an arm over his waist. Before he could drop back off to sleep, he notices that Shiro is shaking slightly with laughter. “What is so funny, ‘kashi?”

Shiro laughs louder, covering his mouth with his fist. “Sorry, it’s just,” He whispers between wheezes, “Sweetheart, you still have your glasses on.”

Adam’s eyes widen, reaching up to grab at his glasses which were askew upon his nose. “Oops.” He mumbles, tossing them onto the nightstand behind him. Shiro is still quietly giggling when Adam wrapped his arm around him. “Shut up.” Adam grumbles, flicking Shiro directly between the eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shiro whispers, his breaths evening out. He reaches out to hold Adam. “Love you.”

“Love you too, ‘kashi”

 

_ ☆★☆    four years later     ☆★☆ _

 

By Garrison regulation, cadets couldn’t live on campus until they were of the age of sixteen. Nine times out of ten, when cadets first moved into the dorms they were paired up with another cadet as a roommate. So when Lance checked the dorm assignments and saw that he had a dorm all to himself for the new semester, he was over the moon.

“Hell yeah!” Lance fist pumps then leans his elbow on Hunk’s shoulder. “The first time in my life I won’t have to share a room with Luis! So who’d you get stuck with?”

Hunk squints at the list, dragging his finger over the columns of names, “Someone named Pudge, er, no uh, Pidge Gunderson,” Hunk replies. “Is it bad that I don’t know if that a boy or a girl?” Lance’s face scrunches up in thought, then gave up and shrugged.

“Uh, that’s me,” A small voice comes from behind them. Hunk spins around quickly, causing Lance’s arm to slip of his shoulder and stumble forward. A short boy is standing self-consciously in front of them, looking up at the taller boys timidly as he shoves his thick rimmed circular glasses further up onto his nose.

_‘He looks pretty young’_ Lance thinks to himself, giving Pidge a once over. His hair is a light brown, shaved short on one side, then longer and curly on the other. He's at least a half a foot shorter than Lance, but then again, Lance is quite tall for his age. Nevertheless, Lance puts on a charming smile and offers out a hand. 

“Hey man, nice to meet you,” Lance says. Pidge hesitates for a second, then shakes his hand and gives him a small smile, revealing a set of green braces. “The name’s Lance, and this right here is your new roommate, Hunk.” Lance gestures to Hunk who is waving. 

The first few months of their friendship were a bit rocky, as Pidge was quite reserved and introverted, contrasting drastically with Lance’s outgoing personality. She and Hunk got along first, sharing an interest in engineering, and both less extroverted than Lance. As they continued to spend more and more time together, though, the three became quite the trio. 

Despite Lance’s initial excitement over having a room to himself, he soon realized he actually missed sharing a room with his brother - or anyone really. The silence in his empty dorm was awful. Growing up in a full house, there was never a quiet moment. He missed the sound of his little siblings and nieces and nephews laughing and playing downstairs; he missed the sounds of his mom and his abuelita bustling in the kitchen, shooing him away when he would try to take a taste of something; he missed hearing his father, asleep and snoring on the couch in front of the tv when Lance would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night for a snack. He tried not to think about it too hard, or else he would start to tear up. But he couldn’t help it - he missed his family so much it hurt. Lance loved space, but deep down he knew he loved Cuba more.

Hunk understood how Lance felt; how could he not? His family was across the globe in Samoa. He could see Lance was homesick, so he did his best to keep Lance from being alone in his dorm too often. Plus, it was nice to have someone to talk to - not that he didn’t like talking to Pidge, it was just he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He didn’t talk about his family, and spent a lot of nights sneaking out, which Hunk wanted no part of.

 

☆ ★ ☆

 

“Hunk, can you please keep _your_ stuff on _your_ side of the room?” Pidge says, tossing one of Hunk’s shirt over onto Hunk’s bed. They're all hanging out in Pidge and Hunk’s dorm as per usual, Lance sitting up on top of the desk as he works on his homework. Pidge and Hunk were busy tidying up for inspections tomorrow.

“Y’know, you wouldn’t have to spend so much time cleaning if you just put your clothes in the dressers.” Lance chimes in, looking up from the astronomy textbook in his lap. 

“Lance, you’re just as messy and you know it,” Hunk retorts, pointing an accusing finger towards his friend. “And why are you sitting on the desk when there’s a perfectly good chair right there?”

“Why would I sit in the chair when there’s a perfectly good desk right here?” Lance echoes, arching an eyebrow. Hunk rolls his eyes, though there's a fond smile on his face.

A loud knock on the door startles the three, causing Pidge to bang his head on the underside of the bed. The door opens to reveal Mr. Ibarra, who gives Lance an odd look before shaking his head. “Sorry guys, it’s lights out in five. Mr. Sanchez, you need to get back to your dorm.”

Lance pouts as he gathers his stuff, slides off the desk and waves goodbye to Hunk and Pidge. “See you guys tomorrow,” He says on his way out. Mr. Ibarra steps aside, then stops Lance with a hand on his shoulder. Lance pivots to face him.

“Am I in trouble?” Lance asks, sighing in relief when Mr. Ibarra shakes his head.

“No, you’re not in trouble Lance. I just need to talk to you,” Lance raises an eyebrow expectantly. “I understand that you probably enjoy having a dorm all to yourself. However, my,” Mr. Ibarra pauses for a second, seemingly looking for the right word, “my nephew slash brother-in-law is moving on campus, and he is a bit nervous to be living by himself. That being said, I was wondering if you’d be okay with allowing him to be your roommate.”

“Oh, yeah sure, no problem,” Lance says, “one question though. How can he be your nephew and your brother in law?”

“It’s complicated,” Mr. Ibarra replies, “technically speaking, he would be my brother in law, but he is more of a nephew to me.”

“Ah, yeah I get that. Well, if I’m being honest, I’m getting kinda lonely without a roommate, and it’d be interesting to meet your nephew slash brother in law.” He grinned.

Mr. Ibarra chuckles at that, ”Interesting is certainly a word to describe him. Anyway, thank you very much Lance, you don’t know how much this means to me. Now, you better hurry back to your dorm. Wouldn’t want to get caught in the hall during lights out.”

The grin is quickly wiped off Lance's face, replaced with panic, “Oh, shit,” He mutters, hurrying down the corridor past Mr. Ibarra.

“Language, Mr. Sanchez!” Mr. Ibarra calls after him.

“Sorry!” Lance yells over his shoulder. He skids around the corner and slips into his dorm. Dropping the textbook on his desk haphazardly, he sheds the jacket of his uniform and moves to change into more comfortable clothes. Laying in bed, he stares up at the plain grey ceiling above. He was getting a roommate. Someone else would be living in here with him.

Lance didn’t know Mr. Ibarra had a nephew; granted he was his teacher, though Lance was closer with Mr. Ibarra that any of the other instructors. Especially after what happened to Mr. Ibarra’s husband, Takashi Shirogane. _Wait._ If his nephew was technically his brother in law, then that means he would be Takashi Shirogane’s _brother._ Holy shit, he was going to be roommate’s with his hero’s younger brother.

_What is he going to be like? Will he be anything like Takashi? Or would he be the complete opposite? What if they don’t get along?_ Annoyingly, he would have to wait until his new roommate arrived before he could answer any of those questions.

 

☆ ★ ☆

 

“Keith, are you almost ready?” Adam hollers from the kitchen. No reply. He slips off the barstool and walks down the hall to Keith’s room, lightly rapping on the door. He hears a quiet ‘come in’. Pushing the door open, he finds Keith sitting on the end of his bed, staring down at a picture frame in his hands. His initial frustration with Keith taking so long immediately washed away, replaced by a feeling of grief he had become all too familiar with.

Adam crosses the room to sit next to Keith, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The picture was taken a few months after Keith had moved in with them, when he was around eleven years old - Keith was sitting on Shiro’s shoulders, giving the camera a toothy grin. Shiro had one hand wrapped around Keith’s ankle and another holding up a peace sign. They had just returned from racing on the hoverbikes, thus, both of them were covered in dust and sand, goggles pushed up onto their foreheads.

“I can’t even fit in that jacket anymore,” Keith says, nodding towards the red and white windbreaker he's wearing in the photo. Adam laughs weakly.

“You’re hair is a lot longer now too,” Adam says, tugging at the short white ponytail on the back of Keith’s head. Keith snorts, swatting away Adam’s hand. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” Adam pats Keith on the back before standing up and walking to the door. Keith follows suit, slipping the photograph into his bag, then slings it over his shoulder.

“Do I have to call you Mr. Ibarra now?” Keith wonders aloud during the car ride.

Adam chuckles, “Yes, you will have to call me Mr. Ibarra.”

“Can I still call you Adam if no one’s around?” Keith asks.

“Sure, why not.”

They sit in silence the rest of the way there. Pulling into a spot marked for instructors, they both get out of the car and begin unpacking the minimal stuff Keith had brought from the trunk. They make their way into the building, passing plenty of students hanging out in the halls who were enjoying their Saturday off from classes. After passing rows upon rows of identical doors, they finally stop in front of one at the very end of the hall. “This is it.” Adam says. Keith inhales nervously as the door slides open, revealing a room similar in size to the one he had back at Adam and Shiro’s apartment.

There's a set of bunk beds along one of the walls, and a window out to a courtyard on the opposite wall of the door. One desk is position in front of the window, and another is pressed against the wall opposite of the beds. Each end of the bed had a dresser pressed against it; one was clearly his roommates, covered in knickknacks and photographs. Keith steps into the room, dropping his box of clothes next to the empty dresser. He isn't sure which bunk was his, but he hopes his roommate wants the top bunk.

“It’s nice in here.” Adam comments absently, setting down his boxes on the desk that was clear of textbooks and papers. “Do you need any help unpacking?”

Keith glances over the few boxes he has, then shakes his head, “Nah, I think I got it.”

“Alright. I’ve got lesson plans to make, so I’ll be in my office if you need me.” Keith nods as he crouches down to open the box of clothes.

Just before Adam was out into the hall, he hears Keith call after him, “See ya, Mr. Ibarra.” He has a teasing smirk on his face.

“God, you’re such a shit,” Adam sighs, rolling his eyes as he disappears out into the hall.

For the next hour, Keith is alone as he unpacks. He was never one to have many things; just his clothes, toiletries, and some personal items. Everything else was stuff for his classes. He takes out all the books and notebooks from the box labelled “junk” and sets them on the desk. He pulls the photo of him and Shiro out of his bag and places it on the corner of the desk.

He's almost done putting away his clothes when he hears the door slide open. A tall boy, much taller than Keith, enters the room, his hands stuffed in the pockets of a green bomber jacket. The boy appears to take a double take when he spots Keith, his eyes roaming over him, then snapping immediately back. “Oh, uh, hey,” He says, waving to Keith. 

“Um, hello,” Keith replies, then realizes he's still sitting on the floor, a pair of pants in hand. He stuffs the pants into the drawer quickly before standing up to face the boy.

“I’m Lance,” He introduces, holding out a hand. His skin was far darker than Keith’s, and his hands are more well-kempt compared to Keith’s calloused palms and fingernails that he'd bitten down to stubs.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Keith,” Keith says, shaking Lance’s hand. There's an awkward pause as they stood in front of each other, neither really knowing what to say. Lance is the first to break the uncomfortable silence. 

“So, which bunk do you want?” He asks, turning towards the bunk beds next to them.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d prefer the bottom one,” Keith says, fiddling with his hands nervously. This is probably the longest conversation he’s ever had with someone his age that hasn’t gone horribly.

“That’s perfect, ‘cause I prefer the top bunk!” Lance says, excited, climbing up the ladder to sit on the top bunk. “So, what do you like to do?” He asks as he shrugs off his jacket.

Keith goes back to sitting in front of the dresser to finish putting away his clothes, but he was caught off guard by the question. _What did he like to do?_ “Well, uh, I like riding hoverbikes, and reading, I guess.”

“Reading, huh? What’s your favorite book?”

Keith hums in thought, “The Odyssey.”

“Ah, so you’re an old classics kinda guy.”

The corner of Keith’s lip quirk up, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

 

☆ ★ ☆

 

The next couple weeks go by without a hitch, the two boys getting along just fine. Lance introduced Keith to Hunk and Pidge soon after he’d moved in, and surprisingly Keith and Pidge got along like a house on fire. The first time they had all hung out together, they got into a debate about whether or not aliens existed. Hunk and Lance were skeptical, while Keith and Pidge adamantly insisted that aliens were in fact real. “I’ll bet you anything you want that aliens are real,” Keith wagers, looking at Lance.

“Fine! If you can give me conclusive proof that aliens are real, then I will give you twenty dollars,” Lance replies confidently.

Keith smirks, holding out a hand, “Deal.” He confirms as they shake on it. 

They played truth or dare for their remaining time before the call for lights out came, and Lance and Keith had to leave. Returning to their dorm, Keith took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair, then moved to his dresser to change.

“Hey, if I’m completely out of line with this feel free to tell me, but is that your natural hair? Or do you dye it?” Lance questions from across the room, pulling off his blue baseball shirt to put on an old t-shirt.

“No, I don’t dye it. I was born like this,” Keith answers. He reaches behind his head to pull his hair out of the ponytail holder.

“Wow, that’s cool. I was born with plain old brown.” Lance huffs, running a hand through his hair.

“I think brown hair looks good on you,” Keith says, his face flushing when he realizes what he said.

“Aw, thanks Keithy,” Lance says in a mock sappy tone, placing a hand over his heart. “Such a charmer.”

“Whatever, see if I ever compliment you again,” Keith mumbles, his cheeks tinged pink.

“Aw c’mon, man, I’m just teasing,” Lance says, punching Keith lightly on the shoulder. Lance climbs up to his bunk fumbling with the covers until he finally settled. He could hear Keith shuffling around down below, crossing the room to turn off the overhead light before flopping down on the bottom bunk.

“Night, Keith,” Lance whispers.

“G’night, Lance."


	2. Chapter 2

Something was off. Lance wasn’t sure when it started, but whatever it was, it didn’t seem like it was going away anytime soon. It wasn’t homesickness exactly; it wasn’t the same feeling he got when he thought about his twin sister Rachel, or the clear blue waters of playa Guanabo. It was like he was homesick for a place he had never been. Like something was drawing him in, calling him to come closer. It frustrated him to no end, that he didn’t know what it was or how to make it stop. It kept him awake at night, it made him toss and turn as he tried to banish the pestering thoughts. His friends could tell something was up, too. Keith would give him worried glances in the morning when Lance would drag himself down from the top bunk, dark circles forming underneath his eyes. Hunk had pulled him aside multiple times, asking if something was bothering him. Everytime Lance would wave him off with the same forced nonchalance. Hunk, or course, saw right through it. 

Even Pidge was showing concern. Which was comparable to seeing a unicorn and winning the lottery in the same day (it wasn’t that Pidge didn’t care about them, he just wasn’t that observant to others feelings). Lance and Keith were in the middle of studying for their upcoming physics quiz when Pidge came knocking, asking if he could borrow Lance for a bit. 

“What’s up?” Lance asks as he steps out into the hall. Pidge doesn’t respond, just signals for Lance to follow him. They walk in silence, winding through the maze of hallways until they reach a door that reads ‘restricted personnel only’ in bold red letters. “Uh, Pidge? I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here,” He whispers, looking over his shoulder as if Commander Iverson would appear out of thin air and catch them. 

Pidge produces a key card from his pocket and swipes it through the scanner. The scanner flashes green and the door slides open, revealing a metal ladder going up through the ceiling. Pidge moves forward to start climbing, but Lance stays behind. “Oh c’mon Lance, no one ever comes up here. We’ll be fine.” He assures.

Lance sighs through his nose, eyeing Pidge warily. He relents under Pidge’s pleading gaze, grumbling as he moves to follow. Once at the top, Lance realizes they’re no longer indoors. The sun had almost disappeared below the horizon, just barely peeking out from behind the large rock formations of the Arizona desert.

Pidge walks over to the edge, dropping down to sit so his feet dangle off the side of the building. Lance carefully sits down near the edge and crosses his legs underneath himself. “Is there any particular reason we’re up here, or did you just want to watch the sunset with me? ‘Cause I know I’m pretty attractive, but I’m not sure I like you like tha-” Pidge cuts him off with an elbow to the ribs, though he has a grin on his face. 

“Shut up, dweeb,” Pidge laughs fondly. His smile soon fades, though, and the light hearted energy dissipates. “Lance, I know something’s up. Hunk and Keith know too, you’re not fooling anyone.” Lance nods in agreement. He isn’t dumb enough to think that no one had noticed. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, I can’t make you tell me anything. I just want you to know that me, and Hunk, and Keith are all here for you.” Lance is looking down at his lap, his eyebrows knit together as he chews on his bottom lip.

Pidge seems almost startled when Lance actually speaks up. “I’m not really sure how to explain it, to be completely honest.” He starts, “But lately I’ve been having these weird thoughts. They’re not my own, it’s like somebody else is trying to communicate with me in my own head.” 

“What are they trying to tell you?” Pidge asks.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t say anything, exactly, not in words at least. It’s just images and ideas. Whatever it is, it’s like it’s calling to me, but I don’t know where to go,” Lance says. The sun had set on them, the evening chill settling over the desert. Lance shivers and pulls his jacket closer around him. Pidge seems lost in thought, his eyes not focused on anything.

“I didn’t plan on telling anyone about this, so you have to swear that you will not tell another person what I’m about to tell you,” Pidge says, deathly serious, though the effect is slightly ruined by him holding up a pinky for Lance. 

“What about Hunk and Keith?” Lance asks. 

“Alright, you can’t tell a single soul other than Hunk or Keith,” Pidge groans, shaking his pinky in Lance’s face. “But seriously, if you tell anyone, I will be expelled.”

“Ok, I promise,” Lance links his pinky with Pidge’s. “Now, what’s this big secret.”

Pidge reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a folded up picture. He hands it over to Lance gingerly. He unfolds the picture, careful not to wrinkle it further, revealing a photo of two teenagers, wading into what appears to be a lake. The picture seems to be taken in the middle of the taller boy saying something funny; the younger girl next to him is laughing, smiling so wide her eyes were squeezed shut. She has long hair, pulled up into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a pair of overalls over a t-shirt. Flipping over the picture, the back reads “katie + matt - summer before kerberos”.

“Is this you?” Lance finally asks, his finger pointing to the girl. He turns to look at Pidge, who nods solemnly. “Kerberos, as in the Kerberos crew that went missing?” Pidge nods once more. Oh. “I’m so sorry.” 

Pidge reaches up to swipe away the tears that had formed at the corner of her eyes. “After Matt and my dad ‘died’,” She makes air quotes with her fingers, “I refused to accept the Garrison’s report. So I began hacking into their systems to find the truth. I was caught by Commander Iverson and expelled. But I couldn’t just give up, so I created a fake identity and re-enrolled.” She sniffles. 

“Did you find anything?” 

“Yes. They claimed the cause to be pilot error, but at the time they claimed the accident to have occured, the crew had logged that they were collecting ice samples.” She says, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. 

“Bastards,” Lance mutters.

“After that, I couldn’t find any new information from the Garrison’s systems. But I figured if they were still out there, I might be able to pick up on any radio waves from the Kerberos moon. So I built a device that would channel in on any waves coming in and modify them into a comprehensible audio.” She says. She stands up and gestures for Lance to follow, leading him over to a spot on the roof hidden by A.C. units. Sitting on the ground is a small satellite dish connected to a tablet like device; a set of headphones are hooked over the top. 

“You built this?” Lance crouches down to inspect the gadget.

“Yep,” There’s a small hint of pride in her voice, “The first few days, it was silent. But then I picked up on something.” Pidge pulls out a pocket sized journal, flipping through the pages until she lands on the right one. She turns it around so Lance can read it. 

“‘Passing through sector 632-M9. System has yet to be occupied by imperial forces. Readings show a small amount of Altean energy radiating from one of the planets.’” Lance reads off the page, “What does that even mean?”

“I’m not sure. Whoever it was, though, was not from Earth.”

Lance feels nauseated, the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up “As in, like, aliens?” He squeaks.

“Yeah. Aliens.” Pidge says, blunt, “They call themselves the Galra, and they searching for some type of weapon. They refer to it as a ‘lion of Voltron’. Apparently, it’s one part of a larger scale weapon, and the Galra want it.”

“Oh my god,” Lance whispers, eyes wide with fear. “Are they hostile?” 

Pidge shakes her hand in a ‘so-so’ manner, “Most likely, but I can’t say for sure.” Lance stares up at the sky, lost in thought as he tries to process all the new information.  _ Aliens are real. They are coming to Earth. The Garrison lied about everything.  _

“So, what do we do?” He finally says, voice low and wavering.

“We have to find it before they do,” She says firmly. 

“And how does this have anything to do with the weird thoughts I’ve been having?” 

“Well, this is just a hypothesis, but, I think whatever ‘lion’ thing that’s here on Earth is calling out to you,” She points to him.

“Me? Why me? Why would it want me?” Lance shouts.

“I don’t know! I don’t know. all I know is that you must be linked to it, and if you have a connection to the ‘lion’, then you might be able to lead us to it. But first, we have to tell Hunk and Keith. We’re going to need all the help we can get.” She says. She then stands and marches back to over to where they came up, Lance scrambling to follow. 

 

☆ ★ ☆

  
  


“These aliens, are they the Galra?” Pidge was in the middle of explaining what she had already told Lance when Keith intejects. 

Pidge blinks in confusion. “Um, yes, actually. How did you know?”

Dread washes over Keith, all color draining from his face. He’s mumbling under his breath, too quiet for any of them to hear. 

“Keith, what is it?” Hunk shakes Keith out of his stupor.

“If the Galra are coming, we are doomed,” He mumbles. 

“What do you mean?” Lance cuts in.

“The Galra will stop at nothing to get what they want. The lion of Voltron you were talking about? It’s here. I know where it is. And if the Galra get their hands on it, they will be unstoppable. Their plan is to dominate the universe, and if they get here, they will enslave and kill millions.” Keith says, gritting his teeth.

Hunk, Lance, and Pidge are staring at him, a mixture of fear and bewilderment on their faces. “How do you know all of this?” Lance demands, his voice raising an octave.

Keith sighs, frustrated, “Look, it’s long and complicated, and we don’t have that much time. We need to go find that lion. I’ll explain later, I swear,” He rises to his feet and snatches his bag off the bottom bunk, then heads to the door, turning to face them before he leaves. “I need to go talk to someone, I’ll be right back.” He says, leaving no room for argument.

He checks up and down the hall, looking for any signs of instructors who may be out in the halls. When he is sure he’s alone, he breaks off into a sprint. He swerves around the corner, then drops to his hands and knees to crawl past the teacher’s lounge. Adam’s office is just past the lounge. Keith knocks firmly on the door, waiting a moment before it slides open to reveal Adam, seeming very tired and puzzled at Keith’s presence. 

Keith pushes his way in past Adam, letting the door close behind him. “Keith, what are you doing here?” 

“I need your help,” Keith says, speaking fast and frantically. He’s out of breath and panting from the run here. Adam grips Keith by the shoulders, forcing Keith to look him in the eyes. 

“Hey, I need you to calm down and breathe,” Adam urges. Keith’s appearance, sweaty and pale, reminds him of the countless times Adam would find him sitting in the kitchen, sleep deprived with tear stained cheeks. Keith never wanted to talk about his nightmares, and Adam never pushed him to do so. He simply offered him a glass of water and kept him company until he went back to bed. 

“My friend knows what happened to Shiro,” Keith blurts. In an instant, all the color drains from Adam’s face, his normally warm brown skin turning to a washed out gray. Adam stumbles back and falls into his desk chair heavily, holding his head in his hands as he rubs circles into his temples. 

“Adam-”

“No, please, I don’t want to know. He’s dead, that’s it. I don’t want to know how it happened, I can’t,” Adam pleads.

“Wait, Adam, just listen, Shiro might still be alive,” Keith cuts him off. Adam silences, slowly raising his head to look up at Keith. His eyes shimmer with the tiniest glint of hope. He had spent the past year squashing down any hopes that Shiro may still be alive, knowing that if he let himself live in that fantasy, it would drive him mad. Hope was a not a familiar feeling to Adam -  not anymore. But maybe it could become one once more. 

“Tell me everything.” 

 

☆ ★ ☆

 

Lance’s foot is rhythmically bouncing up and down as he sits on the bottom bunk. The sound of rubber against tile is the only noise in the room aside from the clicks of Pidge’s keyboard as she types furiously. 

Hunk is nervously pacing back and forth, occasionally stopping to lean over Pidge’s shoulder to see what she’s doing. Suddenly the door opens, and Keith steps in. Lance relaxes momentarily; then he sees Mr. Ibarra enter behind Keith and panics. 

“Keith, what the hell!” Lance jumps up, throwing out his arms. His outburst startles Pidge, who whirls around in her chair to glare at Keith.

“You snitched?!” Pidge yells, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“I didn’t snitch, he’s here to help!” Keith shouts back, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. 

“How can we trust him?” Pidge narrows her eyes, “What if he rats us out?”

“Miss. Holt, I’m not here to punish you,” Adam interjects, “I know you found information on the Kerberos crew, and I’m here to help you in any way possible. My husband was- is with your brother and father.”

Pidge drops her defensive stance, pausing for a second, then nods. She turns around to face her laptop and resumes typing. “Sorry for yelling,” She says over her shoulder, “I just can’t afford to be stopped when I’m this close to getting them back.”

Hunk pats her on the shoulder, “We’re gonna get them back, Pidge,” He says quietly, assuring. 

“Thanks, Hunk,” She smiles gratefully, “And you can call me Katie.” She says quietly.

Lance chimes in, “So, Katie,” He says, coming over to lean on the back of her chair, “What’s the plan?”

Katie turns to look at Keith. “You said you knew where the lion was, right?” Keith nods, uncrossing his arms. “Can you take us there?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure how we’ll get there without the Garrison noticing,” Keith says.

“I can get you all out under the radar,” Adam inserts.

“How are we going to get there? I mean, we’re in the middle of the desert, it’s not like we can just walk,” Hunk asks.

Keith purses his lips in thought. Then his face lights up, turning to look at Adam, who seems to already know what he’s thinking. 

“No, no way, absolutely not, you’ll kill us all,” Adam holds up a hand, halting Keith’s excitement. 

“It’s the only vehicle we have!” Keith argues.

“We have to go off a cliff to get there,” Adam retorts, “It’s one thing for only you to do it, it’s another when you have four other people on it with you.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Keith counters, raising an eyebrow. Adam doesn’t say anything. 

“Then it’s settled we’re doing whatever Keith says,” Katie says. 

“We’re all gonna die,” Lance mutters, hissing when Keith flicks his ear. “What exactly is this dangerous vehicle we’re taking? Because if we actually die, my mom will kill me.”

Keith opens his mouth, probably aiming to make some sarcastic comment, but is stopped by Adam’s hand over his mouth. 

“He has a hoverbike we can use to get there, although to my point, it is extraordinarily risky to take more than two peop- hey! Don’t lick my hand, that’s disgusting,” Adam pulls his hand away and wipes it on the sleeve of Keith’s jacket. Keith gives Adam a smug look, but it soon fades when he notices Lance muffling his laughter into his fist. The realization that he is staring comes when Adam nudges him in the ribs and raises an eyebrow at him. 

Katie cuts in before Keith can ask what Adam is smirking at. “Why don’t we just take one of those AW-Cruisers from the docking bay?” Her question is pointed at Adam, who seems to considers the proposition for a moment.

“That’s not a bad idea, but the AW-Cruisers only have room for four passengers,” Adam says. 

“How about Keith goes ahead on his hoverbike while we take the cruiser and follow him there?” Hunk suggests. He’s looking at Keith, but Keith only shrugs. 

“Don’t look at me, Adam’s the senior officer here,” He defers. 

“Then it’s settled. You three will come with me, Keith will take the hoverbike. We’ll leave tomorrow at 0600,” Adam says, leaving no room for argument. 


End file.
